


Bad Nights

by unrealities



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, mundane Alec, warlock magnus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-23
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-17 22:57:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11278500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unrealities/pseuds/unrealities
Summary: Alec feels like he’s floating through life without any sense of direction. The last thing he ever expected is finding purpose in a warlock, a magical being he was convinced did not exist until one night spent in a nightclub.





	1. Chapter One

The atmosphere of the room is fervent as the dancing crowd grows larger and the booming music becomes louder. In the sea of dancing people, Alec tries to find his sister with no prevail. Everyone around him is having the night of their lives while he sulks at the bar with his third drink in hand. The bartender is watching him carefully now, assuring that he will not cause any trouble. The disappointment etched on his face must be heart-wrenching because the bartender gives him his fourth drink without question.

He tries to enjoy himself at the club, but he feels no excitement or energy pulsing through him. He knows his sister and his best friend are apart of the crowd, having a fun time after he dismissed them. For the first hour, they stuck around, drinking with him at the bar until he became irritated and shooed them off to the dance floor. He acknowledges their efforts in cheering him up, but he finds that it will take more than a few drinks and a loud club to get his mind off of the day’s events.

In the distance, he sees his sister bounding towards him with a smile on her face. She slings an arm around his shoulders and rests her head against his neck, taking a deep breath of relaxation.

“Having a good time, Izzy?” he asks, smiling as his sister’s head bops to the music.

“It would be better if you would come out and have some fun with me and Jace,” she says. She lifts her head from Alec’s shoulder and sighs. The smile on her brother’s face is obviously forced. “I don’t know how to make you happy again, Alec.”

He frowns at her honest admission. The day has been long and hard for him, but his sister felt the rut end of their parents’ anger. In her way of protecting him, she found herself in the crossfire of a heated argument, their parents revealing their most honest thoughts on both of them. Hearing the hateful words from their parents made Isabelle realize the harshness of Robert and Maryse Lightwood, something Alec tried to hide from her for so many years.

“Don’t worry about me so much, Izzy,” Alec says with an unconvincing smile, “you have to leave all the worrying to me.” He pauses for a moment before gulping harshly. “I’m sorry you had to get in the middle of that.”

Isabelle shakes her head, her fists balling up in anger. “No, no way,” she says, “you are not going to apologize for the way out parents acted. Yes, what they said to me—what they said to _us_ was terrible. They were terrible to us. But they said those things to me just to get me mad. They said those things to you because they believe it, Alec, they believe it. I didn’t even know they could go this low.”

Her cheeks are flushed red after her outburst. She runs her fingers through her hair, trying to recover from the fluster she is in.

Alec appreciates his sister’s worry over him. The reason they are in a suspicious nightclub at half-past twelve in the morning is because she wants to help him forget about the words their parents shouted unabashedly at him. The gesture is meaningful and nice, but they both know it will not make him forget any faster.

“Izzy, I’m fine,” Alec lies, “it’s not like they’re the first people that called me those things.”

“But they’re our parents, Alec,” Isabelle emphasizes, “our _parents_. They’re not supposed to shut you out and threaten to disown you because you’re gay!”

Alec flinches at the words. Hearing the reason why they are drowning themselves in alcohol and debatable fun is because their parents can’t bring themselves to accept Alec for who he is. When conjuring the courage to come out to his parents, he thought he imagined every scenario and reaction his parents would have, but he was wrong. The worst reaction is the reality that hit him when his parents began to lecture him about traditions in the middle of their office building.

“I’m sorry,” Isabelle mumbles, sinking into her seat. “I’m just frustrated.”

“I am, too,” Alec says, placing a hand on his sister’s shoulder, “but we can’t do anything about what our parents think. I wish we could do something, but I knew they wouldn’t be accepting and you knew, too.”

“Well, here’s to us for thinking the best of our parents.” She takes a swig of Alec’s drink before resting her head down onto the bar.

The newfound bitterness in her voice takes Alec by surprise. The tone is only used when she is angry at a friend or a boyfriend, but never their parents. The effect the argument has on her is more intense than Alec suspected.

They stay quiet, the silence deafening between them. There are more words to be spoken, but neither make a sound. The tension that overcome them when talking about their parents are unfit for the club scene.

“Hey, maybe we should just call it a night,” he offers, “I mean, we’re both not in much of a clubbing mood anymore.”

Isabelle sighs and nods her head. “You were never in a clubbing mood. I’m sorry I dragged you here.”

“It’s okay,” he says, rubbing his hand on the small of her back. “If anything, I’m sorry I wasn’t in the mood for checking out guys with you.”

She laughs at his words, shaking her head. “Well, I do want to leave, but let’s just scope out the dance floor really quick. I want to make sure I’m not going to miss out tonight.”

In efforts to keep the smile on his sister’s face, he agrees to her offer with a short nod of his head. “If it’ll make you feel better.”

“Definitely,” she says with a firm nod, “and it’ll make you feel better, too.”

Alec nods his head once more, not wanting to respond to her insinuation. Searching for people to gawk at on a dance floor is the last thing he wants to do tonight, but he keeps silent about his thoughts. The few minutes it will take to talk about attractive people in the club does not immensely bother him.

Everyone is pulsing to the rhythm of the music. The strobe lights and the constant thump of the bass start to make Alec nauseous. In the darkness of the club, he finds difficulty in appreciating the facial features of any men in the club. The lights have become more intense, beaming and shining upon the dancers.

“Hey,” Isabelle murmurs, leaning in close to Alec’s ear, “how about that guy?”

Alec follows her indiscreet finger that is pointing to the man in question. His eyes try to follow her gaze until he stumbles upon a man that stands out from the crowd. The man is standing confidently, one hip jutted out as he speaks to the person next to him. His hand is gesturing nonsensically as he continues to carry the conversation. In the constant movement of the lights above them, the shine of multiple accessories catches his eye. With the slight turn of the stranger’s head, he notices a slight shimmer on his cheeks.

“So, you like?” his sister asks teasingly.

Alec opens his mouth to respond, turning his head away immediately when realizing his mouth has gone dry. In embarrassment, he avoids eye contact with his sister as he clears his throat. “I thought you wanted to look for someone for you.”

“Yeah, but he is definitely for you,” she exasperates, nodding her head assuredly. “Come on, Alec, he is pretty. _Pretty_. And he’s sparkling.”

Alec nods, nearly speechless at the sight of the stranger. “He’s a little intense.”

“You’re a little intense,” she retorts, rolling her eyes, “but you’re both intense in different ways. You’ll be perfect. Just go up to him and work the Lightwood charm.”

Alec laughs wryly at her words. “Yeah, I think you got all the Lightwood charm.”

“You’re very charming when you want to be,” she says, punching his shoulder.

“Maybe not tonight, Izzy,” he murmurs, his lips pursing together.

Despite the slight disappointment she badly hides behind her eyes, she nods her head. “I’ll go find Jace.” She squeezes Alec’s shoulder before wandering into the dancing crowd in search of Jace.

Alec picks up his glass, wanting to take a final drink when he realizes Isabelle had done so a few minutes ago. He sighs, setting the glass down and refraining himself from buying another drink. Instead, he rests his head onto the bar, allowing the cold surface to waken him up.

“Bad night?”

The voice is new and strange. On instinct, he looks left and right, assuming the question is not directed towards him. When seeing that the bar is nearly empty, his chest tightens as he realizes someone must be speaking to him.

A laugh startles him into turning in his chair. Suddenly, he is face-to-face with the familiar, but new face of the stranger Isabelle pointed out to him earlier. “Yes, I am talking to you. Are you okay?”

“Oh, um, yes,” Alec answers. His nervousness overrides any confidence he has to talk to the man.

The man raises an eyebrow. Alec refrains from cursing at himself out loud. To Alec’s surprise, the stranger does not politely excuse himself after an assessment of his awkwardness. Instead, the stranger sits down next to him with a grin.

“You’re a bad liar,” the man observes, the corners of his lips quirking up. “Can I buy you a drink to cheer you up, then?”

Alec swallows harshly, debating his answer. He looks out onto the dance floor, trying to find Isabelle and Jace in the crowd. When he sees no sign of them, he turns to the man sitting next to him. The chance he will get in trouble for allowing himself one more drink is high, especially with Isabelle dragging Jace out of the club to go home.

“Yeah, sure,” he answers without another thought.

He tells himself that this is something he wants. An attractive man asks to buy a drink for him and he refuses to turn down the offer because he fears the reaction from his sister and his best friend.

The drink ordered by the stranger is new to Alec, something he has never seen or heard of. Alec stares at the strange concoction in front of him. He takes a hesitant glance towards the stranger who is looking at him with a quirked eyebrow.

The stranger raises his glass up and cheers, “To bad nights!” Their glasses _clink!_ against each other before they drink.

“So, you had a bad night, too?” Alec asks, setting his glass down. The redundancy of the question makes him fumble over his words, but the stranger gladly ignore it.

The stranger instead laughs and nods his head. “Bad night, worst night, what’s the difference?” His tone is dry and humorless, lacking the previous air of nonchalance.

“I’m sorry,” Alec offers, pursing his lips into a smile. He tries to be as comforting as he can, but he knows the words come out awkward and stiff.

“Don’t be sorry for something you didn’t do–” he stops in his tracks for a moment, gesturing with his hand. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I learned your name.”

“It’s Alec,” he says, biting his lower lip. He can feel his own shoulders tensing. “And yours?”

“Magnus Bane,” the man introduces with a gleam in his smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Alec. Short for anything?”

Alec nods his head without thought. “Alexander.”

“How lovely,” Magnus comments, a genuine smile appearing on his face once more. “And what brings you here tonight aside from a bad night?”

“My sister,” he answers truthfully, “and my friend. We all had a bad day, I guess.”

The reality strikes him as he realizes the unfortunate day he has lived thus far. He begins to see Isabelle’s perspective clearly, understanding what it must be like to see her idols—their parents—tear her apart. The day is more than just bad, but he keeps silent about his thoughts in front of Magnus.

“Well, it’s unfortunate to hear that,” Magnus says with sincerity. “My day was just filled with bad investments, I guess you can say.”

“No problem is little,” Alec mumbles, bobbing his head to the music.

The cloudy concoction in his hand is still nearly full as he swirls the glass around. His focus is no longer on Magnus, but on the drink. He can feel his mind numbing from the alcohol and he tries to shake his head out of the sudden murkiness.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, “I guess I can’t hold my drinks tonight.” The words come out of his mouth before he can stop himself. He can feel his cheeks blush at his own straightforwardness.

Magnus chuckles, setting his drink down on the bar. “It’s alright, maybe I should have asked how many drinks you’ve had before I offered another.”

Before Alec can respond, Magnus’ attention is focused on a woman walking up to them. She has a look of worry in her eyes as she leans towards Magnus, whispering hushed and urgent words. Magnus nods vehemently at the woman, his face turning hard as stone at her words. For a moment, Alec believes he sees Magnus’ eyes change color, flash into a sudden gold before returning to its normal shade of green.

Alec blinks rapidly at the worry of his mind playing tricks on him. An urge to ask what he saw is suppressed when the woman runs in the opposite direction of where she came from. Magnus follows her trail before turning his attention back to Alec. His expression is completely different from when he first approached Alec. Magnus’ features are now hardened, his brow furrowed and his lips tight.

“I’m sorry for my abruptness, but I have to go,” Magnus says. A small part of Alec wants to believe he hears reluctance in his voice. “It was nice to meet you, Alexander.”

Alexander. The name strikes him in a strange place in his chest. For the longest time, he pressed everyone to call him Alec because Alexander is plain and boring, but the sound of his name as Magnus says it is different. There is a warmth to his name now that he has heard Magnus speak it.

“Thanks for the drink,” Alec says in return, unsure of what else to say. The response is lacking, but before he can say anything else, Magnus hurriedly follows the path of the woman.

His gaze follows Magnus until he no longer sees him, then he focuses on the two half-empty glasses sitting on the bar in front of him. He wants to ask the bartender what it is, to ensure that his mind will be intact when he wakes up in the morning. The image of Magnus’ eyes suddenly turning into a brilliant shade of gold frightens and intrigues him. He wonders what is in the drink to make him experience hallucinations.

Suddenly, Isabelle and Jace are standing next to him with curious expressions. Alec prepares himself for the series of rapid-fire questions he will soon receive from his friends. He assumes their inquiries will be nothing short of invasive when they mention Magnus.

“We are so talking about the mystery guy,” Isabelle says in hushed excitement.

She hurries towards the exit, waiting impatiently for a story from Alec. Alec glances at Jace who only shrugs his shoulders. With that response, Alec realizes Jace is eager to know about Magnus as well. Their excitement does not surprise him more than it does annoy him.

When they step outside of the club, the crisp, night air wakens Alec almost fully. The coldness engulfs him and he shivers slightly, pulling his jacket tighter around him. The pounding beat of the club is less heightened from outside, allowing him to clear his head.

“I called a cab, it should be here soon,” Isabelle informs. “So, while we wait, tell me all about tall, dark, and handsome.”

Alec rolls his eyes at his sister, but complies. “His name is Magnus and honestly, that’s all I got from him.”

His sister groans at his lackluster response. Jace seems to be irked by the answer as well, raising a questioning eyebrow at Alec. He knows there is more to the story than what Alec admits he knows, but Alec wants to keep the image of golden eyes to himself in embarrassment that it may be a drunken daydream. The two are waiting for a more in-depth answer, both jumping in their place as they stand in the freezing night.

“He just told me he had a bad night, too,” Alec says slowly, “and then some woman whisked him away. I don’t know who she was, but whatever it was, it was important.”

Isabelle is in exasperation at the lack of details. “At least tell me he looked more gorgeous standing near you than away.”

“He was covered in glitter,” Alec responds, “and everything about him was sparkling. He was nice to look at.” The sincerity in his answer makes him regret saying the words out loud.

Isabelle throws her head back with a laugh. “Yes! You like him!” she exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air. “Well, it’s the Alec Lightwood version of liking someone, but nonetheless, you like him!”

The taunt is only playful, but the words echo in his head. He thinks back to when he first met Magnus and relives how he felt in those few short minutes; he recalls his chest thumping harder and his breath becoming ragged. In the presence of Magnus, he became flustered, stammering his way through his sentences. The last thing he remembers is the intensity of his gaze as he looked at Magnus. His cheeks flush red with the thought of his eyes never leaving Magnus throughout the entirety of their conversation.

“Are you thinking of him?”

Jace’s voice pulls Alec out of his thoughts. A smirk plays on his best friend’s lips and Alec pushes him away.

A cab honks at the three of them standing in the cold. Isabelle is the first to move, hurrying to find warmth in the vehicle. She demands to sit in the middle, the body heat of Jace and Alec warming her throughout the ride.

The drive to Alec’s apartment is long and all of them are tired from their night out. Isabelle is the first to fall asleep, finding comfort on her brother’s shoulder. Jace soon follows, light snores quaking through him as he rests his head on the car window. Alec is left awake with his thoughts and they are all of Magnus. The memory of glittering cheekbones, sparkling rings, and intense golden eyes flood his thoughts.

A chill overcomes him and he digs his hands into his jacket pockets. In one pocket, he feels a small piece of paper rubbing against his fingers. With surprise, he pulls out the paper, finding a number and a message saying _I hope you call me, Alexander_.

Alec, once again, blushes at the mention of his first name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is more of an introduction to the story, so it's a bit short, but if I find myself writing more of this story, the next chapter will definitely be lengthier. It has a bit of a rocky start, but hopefully everything pulls together in the end. I just wanted to see how this chapter goes. 
> 
> If you want to talk or ask about the story, you can do so on my [tumblr](http://hunterune.tumblr.com/).


	2. Chapter Two

The days pass quickly as Alec sulks in his apartment. Isabelle and Jace visit him frequently, but can never get him out of his stupor. The nights spent eating takeout, watching bad movies, and pointedly avoiding the topic of his parents make him feel better in time. Before he knows it, July turns into August and summer is nearing its end.

Isabelle decides that clubbing is more her interest than Alec’s, so she keeps him out of the loop. Jace, on the other hand, pushes Alec to go to a bar with him every once in awhile. Every time a club or bar is mentioned, Alec is reminded of the night at a club where he met Magnus Bane. Since that night, the memory of sparkling, golden eyes engulfs his thoughts. Though, the eyes are not the only part of that night he remembers. The night brought him many wonders including that of Magnus which he cannot forget. He often replays their short conversation at the bar in his mind, the memory bringing a small smile to his lips. But in the time that the stinging pain of his parents’ reaction to his sexuality lessens into a dull ache, he never finds the right moment to call or message the number found in his jacket pocket the night he left the club.

Isabelle and Jace separately mention Magnus to him at least once.

Halfway through one of Alec’s binge-watching weekends, Isabelle plops down next to him on the couch and offers him a bowl of pretzels. The offer is not out of the kindness of her heart more than it is a way to say, “I gave you something to eat, so listen to what I have to say. It’s only fair.” She tells him that sulking is not attractive on Alec and that someone who can fix that is Magnus, who she claims made him smile and blush like a blubbering fool. That night, he chooses to ignore Isabelle and her debatable advice.

During a night out bar-hopping against his will, Alec finds himself in the midst of a drunken conversation with Jace about his happiness and Magnus and how the two tie in with each other. Jace, after his sixth drink, slams down his glass and slings an arm around Alec’s shoulder. He blathers on about the attractive woman he saw on the dance floor just moments ago, then the conversation takes a turn when he asks if Alec saw anyone that peaked his interest. When Alec does not respond, Jace tries to convince him to call Magnus on the spot. He claims that Alec will never be happy if he doesn’t allow himself to be, and his happiness begins with calling the attractive man that is probably waiting by his phone for a call from him. Alec convinces himself that Jace’s words are caused by his drunken state, even if a part of it hinted at the truth.

Then, on one, hot summer afternoon, Alec hears a pounding on his apartment door. He is in the middle of cleaning his almost chaotic apartment, trying to rid of the restlessness he feels within himself. On the other side of his front door stands Isabelle and Jace with stern faces and serious moods, not pizza and bad movies as usual. Alec is almost afraid to let them inside his apartment, but they take no time barging in and making themselves comfortable.

“What are you guys doing here?” he asks, glancing at the clock on the wall. It is only two in the afternoon, too early for both Isabelle and Jace to visit him.

“This is an intervention,” Isabelle announces with a nod, sitting herself down onto the couch and ignoring the mess of clothes next to her.

“Kind of,” Jace adds on with a shoulder shrug. “We just want to talk about how weird you’ve been acting about talking to Magnus.”

Alec feels himself becoming frustrated. “Is there something so strange about me not wanting to call some guy I met in a bar a month ago?” He tries to emanate anger, but he knows the words are weak and tired.

“It wouldn’t be so strange if you weren’t pining over him,” Isabelle mutters, rolling her eyes. “And don’t even try to deny it! Spending the week upset after what mom and dad did is understandable, but for an entire month? Yeah, right! I know you, Alec, and I know that what mom and dad did still hurts, but it is not the reason you’ve been staying in your apartment, staring at your phone all day.”

He wants to correct Isabelle and tell her that Magnus is merely in his thoughts because of the mysterious occurrence involving his eyes and nothing else, but he knows she can sense his lies from miles away. So, he lets her rant sink in, allowing the words to process in his mind. He finds himself drifting to the month he spent without talking to Magnus, thinking about the times he is caught staring into the distance, refusing to admit that Magnus is on his mind. A part of him realizes that he is pining for Magnus, but he keeps himself silent to avoid Isabelle’s triumphant gloating.

“Why don’t you want to call that guy?” Jace asks, breaking Alec free of his inner thoughts. Before Alec can respond with a faint lie, Jace continues his train-of-thought. “Wait, actually, scratch that question. Why are you so hung up on the guy? We wouldn’t notice you being all weird about him if you weren’t so obvious that you’re thinking about him all the time.”

Alec tenses, his shoulders and chest tighten at the mention of his mood lately. He is aware that he has spent less time with Isabelle and Jace than usual, worrying them both about his loneliness. But he also recalls himself eyeing his phone, rubbing a piece of paper holding a phone number between his finger and his thumb, and being reluctant to go out to bars more than usual. To Isabelle and Jace, these are tell-tale signs of Alec pining over someone; to Alec, this is his innate ability to be oblivious to even himself.

“Am I that obvious?” he finally asks, releasing a long sigh from his chest.

Isabelle hides a fond smile and nods in agreement. “You are definitely, _definitely_ that obvious. But this time, you noticed it, too.” The grin on her lips is difficult not to reciprocate.

“So, call him,” Jace concludes with an easy shrug. “And don’t try to back out of it. He _will_ pick up. The longer you wait, the better chance you’ll both forget.” He nods his head towards Alec’s phone on the coffee table.

Alec simply nods his head, his mind reeling with thoughts of Magnus. He stares at his phone and picks it up in a hurry. A small huff slips from his mouth when he realizes he has memorized the number Magnus gave him. A strange feeling arises in his stomach when he grasps the reality of his subconscious knowing to contact Magnus before he did.

“Can you guys step out for a second?” Alec asks, staring at his phone with an unnecessary intensity.

Jace gives Alec an encouraging smile, nodding his head as he holds his thumb up. Isabelle is being dragged through the front door by Jace before she can protest. Alec smiles fondly at his two friends despite them being the reason he is making a somewhat reluctant call to Magnus.

Many thoughts run through Alec’s mind as he holds the phone in his hand. A month is a long waiting period to call someone he met in a bar and there is a good chance Magnus does not want to talk to him. Whatever his friends may think, Magnus is a person, he is allowed to reject Alec as much as Alec has seemingly rejected him in the past month. He ignores his own attempts to back out of calling Magnus and instead hurriedly types the number into his phone.

His heart begins to thump in his chest when his thumb is hovering over the call button. He braces himself, holding his breath as he calls the number and shoves the phone against his ear. The ten seconds it takes for someone to answer are the longest seconds Alec has experienced.

“Hello?” the voice assuredly belongs to Magnus, but it is unlike the voice Alec was entranced with all those nights ago. Instead, the voice is bordering on annoyance and frustration, the two syllables of the greeting spoken with sharpness at its edges.

Alec belatedly thinks a text message would have sufficed. “Sorry, bad time?” he offers instead, unsure of how to respond to the unfamiliar voice before him.

When there is no immediate reply, he holds his breath in anticipation. On the other end of the line, he hears stomping, muffled voices, and a distinct animal noise—a cat meowing, he guesses.

“Is this who I think it is?” Magnus asks. The earlier irritation is gone, replaced with a calmer, more natural tone. He is more recognizable to Alec as the teasingly flirtatious man he met at a nightclub.

“I guess I should have said it was me,” Alec stammers, “I mean Alec. It’s Alec. Alexander. We met at Pandemonium.” He wants to curse himself to the heavens and back.

An amused chuckle is elicited from Magnus. “I was hoping you would call,” he admits happily. “I was beginning to think you weren’t interested.”

“Yeah, sorry it took such a long time for me to call you,” Alec apologizes, his nerves slowly crawling back. “After the first week of not calling you, I thought it would be weird.”

“My phone number doesn’t have an expiration date, Alexander,” Magnus says, teasingly lightly. “But I’m glad you called me. Maybe not at this particular time, but nonetheless, I’m glad.”

“Me too,” Alec breathes, too relieved to care about how his chest swells at the sound of his first name once again.

In the background, there are various noises; Alec swears he hears glass being broken. Magnus seems to not notice or care, not addressing the sounds at all. Instead, he sighs into the phone and continues the conversation without missing a beat.

“I’m glad you called,” Magnus repeats, “I needed a break from my client.”

“Client?” Alec asks. He feels himself being pulled back into reality with the realization that he does not know Magnus at all. He is now aware that they are nearly complete strangers.

“Oh.” Magnus falters for a moment. “My client! I’m a fashion consultant, or really, a personal stylist, but fashion consultant sounds much better, doesn’t it?”

His voice is high-pitched, different from his usual manner. The sentence comes out fast and in a near jumble if it isn’t for his collected composure. Alec decides to ignore the possibility of Magnus lying to him, pushing aside his curiosity.

“I probably shouldn’t keep you for long, then, should I?” Alec says instead, furthering away from the topic of Magnus’ client or the probability of more lies. “I have to hang out with my friends anyways.”

Alec pretends that he doesn’t hear the disappointed sigh through the crackling receiver. “If you must,” he says. There is a long pause, a silence in which Alec assumes Magnus ended the call, but then a quiet voice comes through. “I hope you call me soon, Alexander.”

“I will,” Alec promises, soft but sure. “Bye, Magnus.”

“Bye.” Then, the phone call ends.

Alec throws himself onto the couch, letting his phone drop from his hands and land on a cushion. He stares at the ceiling, finally noticing the hotness of his cheeks and the beating of his heart. The pounding in his chest is strong enough to feel in his ears. He tries to remember what happened during his conversation with Magnus to evoke such a flustered reaction.

He closes his eyes, trying to lose himself in his thoughts. He ignores the sudden bang of his front door opening, revealing Isabelle skipping excitedly towards Alec as Jace worriedly follows suit. His sister finds a seat next to him on the couch, leaning too close for comfort as she silently pleads him to tell her about his phone call with Magnus.

“Tell her or we’ll never hear the end of it,” Jace begs, sitting on the coffee table. “The only reason she stopped talking out there is because she wanted to see if she could hear through the door.” That earns him a slap on the arm from her.

“Just tell me,” she demands, ignoring the stifled noise of hurt from Jace.

“We just talked, Izzy,” Alec exasperates, rolling his eyes at the determined look on her face.

He wants to tell her that he and Magnus had the antithesis of the exciting phone call she was expecting. He decides to also leave out the shocks and jolts he felt throughout his body in excitement while talking to Magnus.

Isabelle sighs, shaking her head in disappointment. “At least tell me what you talked about?” she prompts, gesturing her hand to ask for more information. “Like, every detail of it at least.”

The excited look in her eyes is one thing, but the possibility that his sister will never leave him alone if he doesn’t tell her about his conversation with Magnus is what breaks Alec.

“I interrupted some meeting he had with a client, I think,” Alec says. When Isabelle gives him a blank stare, he also adds, “He might have a cat.” He recalls the distant mewling in the background, along with a few other noises that were not explained.

Isabelle makes an exasperated noise and sinks into the couch. “Nothing else happened?” The question comes out in a small, defeated voice.

“What exactly were you expecting?” Jace asks with a laugh. “They met a month ago. Did you think he was just going to ask Alec to be his two in the afternoon booty call?”

Alec is relieved that Jace can manage to diffuse the tension in almost any situation. He laughs along with Jace, thanking him silently with an appreciative look. They both receive a huff and a glare from Isabelle, however.

“If it makes you feel better, I’m going to call him later,” Alec offers with a shrug.

“It makes me feel a little better,” she admits after a moment’s pause.

They sit in silence, only a few remnants of tension left in the air. Jace moves to the couch, finding a seat nestled next to Alec. Isabelle decides that watching a direct-to-television movie is what they need after their somewhat riveting conversation. The movie is forgotten, however, when Jace begins to talk about his unfortunate trials with an attractive woman he met at the supermarket. He spirals into multiple stories of his failures at a relationship for the past few months. His stories remind Isabelle of a boy she swears was the one until he turned out to be harboring an unsettling fetish. Then, they turn to Alec, wondering in silence if he has something to share.

“I haven’t really met anyone, yet,” he says quietly. He begins to close in on himself, not wanting to hear the empty comfort he will sure receive from his friends.

“You’ve met Magnus,” Jace offers. The response lacks the awkward and unsure sincerity Alec usually receives from Jace. For that, Alec offers him a smile.

“And when they happen, I am definitely ready to hear all of the stories about you and him,” Isabelle adds with a sly smile.

Alec’s smile falters for a moment. “You don’t even know if anything is going to happen between us,” he says, hoping his own words are not true.

“I mean, it didn’t sound like he got angry at you for calling him a month late,” Jace reminds. “That seems pretty promising.”

“Plus, he’d be out of his mind if he doesn’t want to be with you,” Isabelle says with a firm nod.

“Thanks,” he murmurs, smiling at both of his friends.

Suddenly, the ringing of a phone fills the air and all eyes are Alec. He takes a look at his phone and realizes that the screen is not flashing with Magnus’ name, or at all. He gives his friends a shrug before Jace pulls out his phone and answers it.

“I feel like you’re both more excited about me talking to Magnus than I am,” Alec says, laughing.

Isabelle shrugs her shoulders. “Can you blame us? You deserve someone good in your life.”

“You’ve already decided that he’s good for me?” Alec says with a teasing tone, but the smile doesn’t leaves his face.

“Well, tell me when it’s serious and I’ll do the ‘Good Enough for Alec’ check,” she says, serious as much as she is joking. Her face shows that she is struggling with the thoughts running through her mind. After a momentary pause, she speaks her mind. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I know,” Alec mumbles, his smile faint but still present. The determination Isabelle has for finding Alec happiness would be annoying if it isn’t so endearing to him.

Jace peeks his head from the doorway into the kitchen with his hand covering his phone, interrupting the abrupt heart-to-heart between Alec and his sister. “I think I need to get going,” he says, almost reluctantly. Then, a sharp noise comes through the phone, muffled by Jace’s hand. He winces and heads out the door with a short wave.

“Maybe I should go, too,” Isabelle ponders, “it’s getting late and I know you want to go to sleep. You look tired.”

Despite the time only being half past three in the afternoon, Alec agrees with his sister’s statement. The day has been long, especially with the start of cleaning his entire apartment. The so-called intervention Isabelle dragged Jace into for Alec’s sake has also drained his energy since it resulted in him calling Magnus with alarm and worry.

“Yeah, I’m tired,” he admits, yawning and stretching. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“And you’ll call Magnus later, right?” The question is hopeful and insistent at the same time. She keeps her eyes steady on Alec until he responds.

Alec nods, not wanting to promise anything to his sister. He knows when Isabelle leaves his apartment, he will go to sleep, wake up, and call Magnus before it is too late in the day. His worry is that she will try to pry information about the phone call when he talks to her the next day.

“I’ll see you later,” she calls, already halfway out the front door. She blows a kiss before shutting the door behind her with a dull thud.

Alec lays himself on the couch, breathing calmly as he closes his eyes. He tries to keep his mind off of Magnus, but it already begins to race with images of Magnus. He finds himself thinking of Magnus more times than he prefers to admit. The golden eyes are the pinnacle of his Magnus-related thoughts, but his hair, his jawline, the glitter running down his smooth cheekbones, and the slender fingers that held many blinding accessories follow suit.

Soon, he falls into an easy sleep with the familiar vision of Magnus, an occurrence that has happened more than once.

When he wakes, the sun is no longer seeping through the cracked curtains on his windows. Night in New York elevates day by harboring blaring traffic and louder people outside his apartment building. He glances at his clock, hoping it is not too late to call Magnus. If Isabelle and Jace were in his presence, he would have blushed at how fast his hands find his phone.

The phone is still in his hands, no new messages or calls are waiting for him aside from a picture of Isabelle at a club in the outskirts of town. He hastily brings the phone up to his ear when he dials Magnus’ number. A few moments pass with him hoping that Magnus is not already asleep.

“Alexander!” a happy and admittedly intoxicated voice greets through the phone.

“Hi, Magnus,” he breathes, aware of the shortness of his breath and the nervousness in his voice. “I’m sorry that I’m calling late.” The clock reads a quarter after ten.

“This is barely late for me,” Magnus says with a laugh, “I’m a bit of night owl, I guess you can say.”

With that statement, Alec notices the sounds beyond Magnus’ voice breaking through the other end of the line. The noises are different from earlier in the day. He can no longer hear a few items breaking and debatable animal noises; he now listens to music blaring over talkative people, faint sounds of whooping and cheering breaking through every now and then.

“I’m sorry, is this a bad time?” Alec asks, frowning when he realizes it is the second time he has asked Magnus the question.

“No, of course not!” Magnus says, almost hurriedly. “It’s just a little party.”

A loud crash followed by a “Where the hell is Magnus?” is heard through the phone. Alec clears his throat, knowing that Magnus is definitely understating the atmosphere of the party.

“This is a bad time.” It is a statement this time, instead of a hesitant and hopeful question from Alec.

“Can I call you tomorrow?” Magnus asks after a short pause. “Around noon?”

Alec ignores the slurring between words. “Sure. I’ll be here.”

“Great!” Magnus lets out a hiccup and a trilling laugh. “Have a good night, Alexander.”

“Bye, Magnus,” he says. There is a fleeting disappointment in his chest for not being able to talk to Magnus any longer than a few minutes, but he bites his bottom lip, trying to prevent himself from prolonging the conversation any further.

The soft _click_ in his ear tells him that Magnus is no longer on the other end of the line, but Alec keeps the phone to his ear for a few more moments before resting it in his lap. He feels exhausted all of the sudden, his body dragging him back down to the couch. His eyes are falling shut and his mind starts to relay his most recent conversation with Magnus.

**___**

An entire week goes by without Alec talking to Magnus.

The promise of Alec receiving a phone call the next day from Magnus is broken, but he pretends not to care. When Isabelle comes over that day, he ignores the questioning looks as he stares at his phone, waiting for it to ring. As noon passes and afternoon turns into night, he knows Magnus is not going to call, but he can’t bring himself to forget.

When he finally tells Isabelle why he has been upset that week, she tries to convince him that Magnus is busy, but they both know it is an empty thought.

By the start of the next week, Alec’s phone begins to vibrate profusely. Hope builds in his chest only to have it crumble when he sees the phone screen flash with his parents’ names. There are a handful of text messages and phone calls from his parents that he chooses to ignore. The one person he decides to call that week is Jace.

“It’s almost midnight,” Jace drones, his voice groggy and tired, “I didn’t know you stayed up this late when you weren’t forced to be at a bar with me.”

“Even half asleep you’re still an ass,” Alec says lightly, comforted by the familiar joking tone of his best friend’s personality. “Sorry it’s late, but I just needed to talk to someone.” His voice is small and quiet as if he is worried that someone other than Jace will hear.

He hears a sudden shifting noise and a grunt. “Don’t worry,” Jace says, clearer and more awake, “you know you can talk to me whenever.”

“Yeah, I know.” Alec knows there is a fondness in his voice, but Jace only makes pressing sounds to urges Alec into tell him why he is awake at midnight on a Wednesday. “I just need some advice on Magnus.”

Jace sighs, the crackling sound suggesting he is nodding his head. “Izzy told me he didn’t call you like he said he would.”

“I mean, I’ll admit he was probably drunk when he told me that and doesn’t even remember ever saying anything,” Alec says, frowning slightly. “He was at a party when I called him that night.”

“Then why don’t you just call him?” Jace asks as if it is the easiest solution in the world. Then, Alec thinks about it. He wonders why he doesn’t just call him.

“I don’t know,” he murmurs quietly. “What if he did remember it in the morning and he just didn’t want to talk to me?”

“Alec, I don’t think you’ve done anything to offend him or make him not like you, right?” Jace doesn’t wait for answer before continuing. “And you do have a knack for thinking way too much. So, call Magnus and ask him out on a date or something. Just do something.” Now his voice sounds tired, like the reality of the situation is finally kicking in.

Alec takes a sharp breath in. “Thank you, Jace,” he says sincerely, “I’ll let you go back to sleep now.”

“I’m not mad at you, you know,” Jace grunts into the phone, settling back into his bed by the sound of a creaking mattress. “Night.” He hangs up before Alec can respond.

Alec places the phone on his nightstand, ignoring the tingling in his fingers to dial Magnus’ number and call him. The time is never right when he works up the courage to talk to Magnus.

He lies in bed instead, thinking of Magnus once more. This time, he wonders if Magnus ever thinks of him. He didn’t leave much of an impression, he thinks. The night at the club, he was a mess, upset over his parents and drunk out of his mind. If he made any impression on Magnus, it would be the fits of staring at Magnus’ facial features throughout their short admittedly short conversation.

He knows if he thinks of Magnus throughout the night, he will never fall asleep. So, he tries to think of anyone or anything else, but when he falls asleep, it’s to the thoughts of a wonderful and unnatural color belonging to a pair of cat-like eyes.

In the morning, he finds himself staring at his phone intensely. Thoughts of calling Magnus run through his head, but he decides against it. It is barely half past eight in the morning, his head will be clearer if he talks to Magnus during the afternoon. But afternoon goes by and he still has not made a call to Magnus. He makes another call to Jace who only sighs with irritation and Isabelle who gives him hesitant words of encouragement.

When he builds up the courage to call Magnus, feeling as brave as he did during his midnight chat with Jace, he calls Magnus at a quarter past ten at night. It's a slow Thursday night for him, he wonders if it is the same for Magnus. Surely, no one throws a party on a Thursday night.

He is wrong.

“Alexander, is that you?” Are the first words out of Magnus’ mouth when he picks up. “It's always a delight to hear from you.”

Alec shakes aside the compliment, finding himself far from blushing. “Bad time again?” He tries not to sound bitter as the question is asked through grinding teeth.

There is a silence that makes Magnus’ surrounding all too clear to Alec. The sounds of heart-racing music and excited people coarse through the phone. There is cheering and thumping and obvious partying.

“I'm at Pandemonium at the moment,” Magnus finally says, “reliving the first time we met.”

Alec curses the way a smile creeps onto his face, then he scoffs to hide it. “You know, you can go clubbing without having to flirt with me to get me off the phone.” The bitterness is prevalent in his tone now, no matter how much he detests himself for it.

“I don't want you to get off the phone,” Magnus says, almost whines, “I want you here.” Drunk, Alec decides, definitely drunk.

“You said you would call,” Alec accuses, covering the hurt with a sharp tone. “That was a week ago.”

“I'm sorry.” Magnus offers no explanation, just an apology. “It's been a bad week.” Alec doesn't count that as an explanation.

Alec says nothing back, staying silent to think. He can't be angry at Magnus, they barely know each other—much to his disdain. Magnus is not required to call Alec and he surely does not have to do it as a chore. If Magnus found himself in a compromising situation last week, Alec has to accept it. It's not like they are boyfriends; it's not like they're close to each other in any way.

The admission that Magnus remembered his promise to Alec makes his chest ache, however. He is annoyed that he feels a flutter in his stomach when Magnus says, “I know I may be the last person you want to talk to now. Trust me, if I was in your shoes, I would not trust me to call you again. But the problem I had last week is solved. I _will_ call you tomorrow. If you want me to.”

The strain in his chest is lively when Magnus waits patiently for his answer. Alec purses his lips to stop himself from saying the first thing on his mind to Magnus’ offer, which is a big, resounding _yes!_ Despite a part of him wanting to stop all contact with Magnus before he digs both of them into a bigger situation than needed, he finds himself trusting his gut.

“I want you to,” Alec answers, hoping Magnus can hear him over the intensity of the nightclub.

“Then I will,” Magnus murmurs, a small breath of relief releasing from him.

“I'll leave you to your night, then.” Alec has nothing else to say because a feeling of tiredness washes over him. “Have a good night, Magnus.”

“Same to you, Alexander.”

Alec stares at his phone, the black screen indicating that his phone call with Magnus is long over. He wants to tear away at the hope that is crawling around in his chest at the chance that Magnus may call him in the morning. The last thing he wants or needs for himself is to cling onto a sliver of hope offered by a man he barely knows, but he finds himself doing so anyways.

And in the morning, Magnus calls. Alec pretends the light feeling in his stomach is the lack of having breakfast, not the happiness that his hopes were not broken.

“Is this a bad time?” The playfulness is refreshing to Alec in the early morning, the very early morning. When he glances at the clock, it reads _6:21 AM_.

“It's just early,” Alec says, yawning into the phone. “I don't usually wake up until maybe two hours from now. I'm trying to get back into the school clock.”

“School clock?” Magnus asks amusedly.

“Yeah, I’m going back to college soon,” Alec informs, clearing his throat and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, “in September.”

“I didn't know you attended college.” Magnus is quiet after that, like he is thinking hard about something.

“Yeah, it's my last year,” Alec says. A relief washes over him when he says the words out loud. It will be his final year of college.

“What are you studying?” Magnus asks. There is no curiosity in his voice as if he just asked for the sake of the conversation. Surprisingly, it doesn't bother Alec, he is glad that they can positively carry a conversation.

“Business,” Alec answers. He pauses before he continues with an explanation. “My parents want me to take over the family business after they retire.” _But I don’t know if they would even want me to take over the business anymore._ He leaves his thoughts to himself.

“Your family has a business?” Alec is not sure if Magnus either ignores the tension in his tone or does not notice it, but he is happy that his parents are not the center of their conversation either way.

“Lightwood Corporation.” The name of the business makes his body cringe inwards and leave a bad taste in his mouth.

“Of Robert and Maryse Lightwood?” Magnus asks with sudden interest.

Alec widens his eyes slightly. “You know them?”

“Well, they are quite popular in the business world,” Magnus responds. “And you’re their son?”

Alec lets out a long breath. “Yeah, I’m their son.”

“Well, you don’t sound too excited about that.” There is no teasing anymore, the playfulness is gone. Magnus is serious, instead, a genuine curiosity present in his words.

Alec pauses, debating on what to say to Magnus, the stranger he no longer wants to be so strange with. With that, he decides maybe revealing a small part of him will make a start of a relationship easier. “Remember the night we met?”

“I could never forget it.” Alec tries not to blush at Magnus’ words.

“I told you that it was a bad night for me,” Alec mumbles, “and it had to do with my parents. I’m not on really great terms with them right now.” It is not much of an admission, but he want to start with honesty.

“I’m sorry,” Magnus says.

Alec tries to detect uncomfortableness in Magnus’ response, but there is none. He finds himself relieved at the sincerity in his tone.

“I’m sorry for dumping that on you,” Alec says, wondering if Magnus might be hiding his discomfort well, “you didn’t need to hear that.”

“I don’t mind,” Magnus insists softly. Alec makes an unsure noise. “Truly, Alexander, I don’t mind.”

Alec laughs shortly. “I feel I talk about myself a lot,” he says. “Tell me something about yourself?” It’s a longshot, but he no longer wants he and Magnus to be strangers.

“You don’t talk about yourself often,” Magnus says instead, “in fact, I wish you would talk about yourself more. I like getting to know you.”

Alec, only slightly upset at his failed attempt to get to know Magnus, moves on from the subject.

They talk for nearly an hour, the longest they have ever held a conversation with each other. In that time, Magnus indulges in getting to know Alec, but never allows Alec to do the same, always swiftly moving onto another topic. When Alec tries to reciprocate a question back to Magnus, he finds himself being shut down. He doesn't dwell on the rejection for long in fear that Magnus might stop the conversation short. In the end, Isabelle is the reason they stop talking.

Alec would have laughed at the irony of Isabelle, the number one fan of Alec and Magnus, interrupting his conversation with Magnus if it isn’t for the worry in her voice as she speaks to him.

“Alec, mom and dad are mad that you haven’t called them back or answered any of their messages.” The nervousness is almost masked by the tiredness in her voice.

When Alec looks at the clock, it is only half-past seven in the morning. At this time, he and Isabelle are usually sleeping. It does not take long for Alec to piece together the picture. His parents had woken Isabelle up, most likely used their stern yet calm mannerisms to convince her to call Alec and tell him to speak to them.

“I’ll do it now,” Alec says, hiding the growl that reaches his chest. He doesn’t want to let out any anger or impatience on Isabelle.

“No,” Isabelle interrupts in a hurry, “actually, they want you to go to the office today and talk to them there.”

The consequence is expected, but Alec still flinches at the thought of visiting the office building where he may or may not work in the near future. Then, he realizes that his appearance at Lightwood Corporation may be the last. His parents’ decision on whether he will take over their business is probably why they are insistent on speaking to him.

“I’ll tell them I’ll be there at nine,” Alec mumbles begrudgingly.

“Sorry, Alec,” she says quietly.

“It’s not your fault,” Alec insists, “please don’t blame yourself for this. This is all on me.”

Isabelle lets out a shaky breath, sounding like she wants to object, but instead prolongs the silence between them. “Love you,” she murmurs after a long while.

“Love you, too.” Alec hangs up before they say anything else to each other.

In this moment, he feels a little irked at Magnus for waking him up so early. He wants to be in a sleeping bliss, unaware of the troubles brewing within himself and his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've settled for this story to be no more than ten chapters. Hopefully, that goes as plan because I'm not that good at planning and this story has derailed from the original outline I wrote for it. I'm hoping that this chapter doesn't seem too rushed. I feel that it's less focused on the story and more focused on details, but the next chapter should string together much better. I started to skim through it once read-through number twelve happened. So, sorry if there are any awkward moments in there, I just have myself to read through it.
> 
> But if you want to talk to me, leave a comment here or visit my [tumblr](http://hunterune.tumblr.com/).


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